A Court of Silver and Feather - An Azriel FanFic
by silveroa
Summary: During ACOWAR, while Feyre is in the Spring Court, a Lady from a far away court arrives in the Night Court in need of a commander to fight against Hybern. -AzrielXOC, Nessian, Feysand, ElainXLucian,
1. The Suriel

A Court of Silver and Feather

—

I stood on the beach and looked out across the sea in the direction of Hybern. Behind me, the Iron Court, my court, lay silent, sleepy in the early dawn. I closed my eyes and focused on the land beyond, Prythian, and winnowed.

—

With a dragon's heart-stone in one hand, I listened for directions on the wind, a guide to the Suriel. I winnowed a few hundred yards at a time, stopping just briefly to listen to the whispers before moving again. I stopped across a small clearing, the Suriel waiting patiently, it's hideous face sending a shiver down my spine.

I held out the heart-stone, taken from the skeleton of a long dead dragon in the Iron Fields and bowed, "A gift, Friend."

The Suriel smiled, aged teeth snapping as it said "Ask."

I floated the stone into its open palm. "I need the Stone Soldiers to fight for me." I said, picturing the soldiers lined in Koche Mountain, unmoving and lifeless.

The Suriel laughed, a sound like the clattering of stones. "You are barely more than a silversmith, not a commander of armies."

"Tell me something useful." I said through clenched teeth.

The Suriel surveyed me, sniffing the air around me. "Your magic comes from a much more ancient source than even the Cauldron itself. Born of a bargain made in darkness. Magic forged in love requires love to operate."

"So you're telling me to fall in love."

"Yes."

"With who."

"Those you seek to protect."

"That's going to be a little difficult since I haven't met everyone in the world and I'd like to protect all of them from Hybern."

"You wish to seek revenge for what has been done to you.

"Everything I do is to protect this world from the horrors I've experienced." I argued. I huffed a sigh, tracking this insane creature may have been a complete waste. "Give me a name, a commander who can lead my soldiers. Who loves his people enough to make the magic work? Just tell me who to find."

"You need to find the love within yourself."

"Hybern is on the rise, I need a commander now. I can't wait around to fall in love with all of Prythian and the rest of the world." I tugged the heart-stone back, The Suriel tightened his grasp, nearly growling. I glared into his blank eyes for a long minute, waiting.

"Cassian." He finally rasped.

"Where." I said, dragging out the syllables

"Night Court."

I nodded, satisfied, and winnowed to the coast of the Night Court.

—

 _To the High Lord of the Night Court,_

 _I request an invitation to discuss issues of diplomacy concerning our mutual neighbor, Hybern._

 _Yours faithfully,_

 _Emissary & Lady to the Night Court _

_Eloda Mithian_

 _—_

I sent copies of my request on several steel ravens. I waited days in an abandoned cabin. On the third day, restless, I stretched my wings under the breathtaking night sky. One wing snowy and the other sliver, as I soared through the Night Court sky. Admittedly, not a stealthy approach, but then again, I wanted to be noticed. I felt exhilarated flying above the Night Court, the snowy capped mountains contrasting against a rich night sky I had not seen in the Iron Court. The stars seemed to glow brighter, the dark expanse of black between the stars rippled with blue and deep purple.

I soared on until morning and through the next day only to find myself having drifted into a haze. I took my bearings, scenting the wind for the salt of the ocean and realized I'd flown too far off course. I landed roughly on the frozen ground. I paced in circles, panic setting in as I did a mental inventory. _When and how had I decided to take such a diverging course?_ It tasted of magic, I'd must have encountered some ward that sent my flying off in the wrong direction.

 _What were they hiding in this Night Court wilderness?_ I mused.

Frustrated at losing an entire day endlessly circling, but having traveled further east than I'd intended, I decided to continue on. I winnowed east in burst, taking to the skies to survey the strangely quiet and desolate Night Court. After several hours I discovered the Court of Nightmares.

I felt the stone pulsing before I could see it even with my powerful Fae eyes. A mountain looming larger and more ominous than those around it and topped by a palace that seemed to ooze magic.

I camped in a cave on a high peak of a nearby mountain and watched underground court. I sent a tendril of power towards my ravens, calling softly to them on the wind and their return.

I waited with nothing to occupy my time. A reoccurring dream haunted me, a nagging memory despite my best efforts to leave it in the recesses of my sub conscious.

I was deep in thought, mind mulling over images of brown haired humans begging the King of Hybern. The King of the island east of my court, that made my skin recoil, my blood boil though I'd not met him face to face. On the wind, from my home, I could scent the waves of evil radiating from his despicable kingdom. I'd not met this King, but I'd met my fair share of his creatures.

On the seventh day in the Night Court, my ravens returned. They flew in to perch on the edge of the cave, silent and without knowledge of the High Lord. I asked the wind and stone about this High Lord, Rhysand and I received only silence from those servants, as well. I waited, in the mountains of the Night Court, sending requests and gifts, all the time the dream replaying over and over in my head.

—

The Cauldron held a roiling dark sea within, terrible power pouring from the interior in thick waves. My eyes crossed and the ground tilted with each wave. The power within made me feel small and weak.

A young woman, innocent and doe-eyed was dragged forward. Her lips begged and screamed but I could not hear her words over the buzzing of the Cauldron. I watched in horror as a Hybern soldier pushed the human under the Cauldron's bubbling surface.

Panting and shaking, I struggled against the dream, aware the ground beneath me was quaking. With horror I realized, it was coming from me. Power was roiling up from the very earth, flowing through me uncontrolled. My eyes opened and I sat up in bed. I snapped my fingers, iron stores clanking onto my bedroll, two iron wrist cuffs. I slipped them on quickly and they began siphoning power from me, a relief. I laid back on my bedroll. I willed my mind to settle and tried not to think of the second girl, how her fierce eyes seemed to bore straight into me as she fought not to be pulled into the Cauldron, or of how much more terrifying she was when she emerged, High Fae.

A paper floated down to the floor in front of me, tearing me from my remembrance. A note arriving on a wisp of darkened starlight. I snatched the note, tearing it open. It read:

 _Court of Nightmares, Midnight._

 _-Rhysand_

Finally, I had my invitation.

—

Just before Midnight, I soared on my wings of feather and silver down towards the towering gates of the Court of Nightmares and prepared to meet the High Lord.

The High Lord did not arrive.

Instead a beautiful blonde winnowed in beside me at precisely midnight, grasped my elbow and winnowed us away again.

I gasped and stumbled, looking around at the palace around me. I'd never been winnowed by another Fae. I looked sharply at the High Fae, disarmingly pretty for a Lady from the Court of Nightmares.

She watched me carefully, "The High Lord will be here shortly. I am the Morrigan."

I nodded, knowing her from the history of Prythian, and bowed. "Pleased to meet you. I am Eloda, second born to the High Lord of the Iron Court, the nine Black Isles. I was expecting, however, to be meeting the High Lord of Night."

She gave me a cold look, and replied "He is attending other business. He _is_ a High Lord you know."

I nodded and surveyed the palace, no glass windows kept out the winter, just magic. A billowing winter storm swirled outside. Yet, it was warm, too warm within my fur lined leather cloak. I reached around to unbutton behind my wings and shrugged it off, revealing a tunic over dark pants that tied in a halter around my neck and left my entire back exposed. I walked to a nearby sofa and lounged on it. Morrigan leaned against a nearby pillar, we watched each other with cat-like suspicion.

I broke from her stare, growing bored, to examine the high ceilings and polished marble demarcated with fabrics to create sub-spaces. And interesting use of space that I'd have to adopt in my own palace. I looked back at the blonde who stood expectantly before me. I raised an eyebrow in response.

She rolled her eyes and offered me a tight smile, "Tea?"

I worked to keep my expression neutral, Prythian and their tea. I shrugged and she sat at a table and poured two mugs.

I felt the wind around us, blowing in from all sides. It whispered "truth" in a halo around her. I decided to be direct. "Why did the High Lord wait so long to invite me? Does he not give weight to the threat of Hybern to the North?"

"Hybern is of concern to us, but there are other matters we must attend."

I thought back to that dream and suddenly, the fragments of it in the corners of my mind pieced together. I gasped in horror. "You tried to nullify the Cauldron and nearly lost everything." I shook my head, not needing the words brought in on the wind to know what nearly had happened. I turned my head and suddenly could hear it more plainly, that disjointed and deranged voice from the dream, some other dark magic that had not been manipulated as planned.

Morrigan looked horrified. I tilted my head, studying her expression. I did not hear the High Lord arrive, but felt his power fill the room a moment later. I sighed in relief and stood, turning to see him walking up in a black tunic and pants of very fine quality. I studied his winglessness, puzzled, sure he was Illyrian.

I bowed my head to him as he approached, "Thank you for meeting with me."

"Lady Eloda. You _are_ persistent."

"Those that persist hold fate's favor."

"Well perhaps fate has favored us greatly then, since you offer an alliance." He sat opposite the table and poured tea for himself, though he did not touch it. I sat across the table, noting how very tired he looked despite easy manner.

"Fate has not favored us if it put the Cauldron in the hands of the King of Hybern." I said and noticed Rhysand did not look surprised at my knowledge of the Cauldron. "Unless that does not bother you?

"It is concerning." He said, thought something about his tone made me question if he was referring to Hybern or myself. "The Iron Court has been historically reclusive. Why offer an alliance now?" His eyes narrowed on my and he added, "Why does the High Lord himself not sit before me."

"My half-brother is a bastard, but I have not contested his place. He cares for little else than power but does well keeping the people safe. I however, worry about the world outside our islands. _And_ I was entrusted with an army."

"An army?"

I nodded. "Not one of flesh or bone, but of stone and steel. One of my creation, begun by my mother in secret long ago. Though, I am not a warrior or commander and fear they will not be successful without one."

"So you seek a commander, and by extension a war for your army?"

"War will be upon you whether we seek it or not. I can't sit in the mountains of Koche breathing in the Hybern's stink on the wind waiting for him to rise up and attack. He will extinguish life after life, he and his filth value little else." I had risen to my feet without realizing, my anger causing the metal in the room to rattle. I sat, huffing a breath. The High Lord and lady did not seemed rattled, unlike the dinnerware.

Rhysand summoned a bottle of amber liquid and three crystal glasses, his eyes leaving me just briefly. "How about something stronger than tea." He poured a dram in each glass.

"Thank the Cauldron." Mor sighed, plucking up the glass.

The High Lord slid a glass in front of me, I sniffed at the finely aged whisky. I sipped, and nodded. "Nearly as good as our own."

Mor chuckled. "I think I need to take a trip west."

I laughed, "The whisky is the most exciting thing about the Black Isles. It'd be a short trip."

"Our people get excited about strong canvas and well knotted fishing nets."

"You'll find we are overflowing in excitement here." The High Lord said, tipping his glass to me.

"Then we have an accord?"

He smiled faintly, and I grew self-conscious of myself, my accent. "First I'll need to see this army."

I rose and said, "I can't show you the whole army but I can show you one soldier, the General, specifically. Will that do?"

Rhysand and Mor exchanged a glance. I did not wait for their responses before I summoned my soldier from the in-between. A marble and gold cast warrior thumped onto the floor. Sculpted armor gleaming, eyes unseeing as he held his steel blade and shield crossed before his chest, immobile.

"Expergisci."

The eyes of the stone soldier flared open, irises blazing like the interior of a forge. Blazed with my power as he snapped his feet apart and lowered his shield and sword.

"Patrocinor." I commanded, The General stepped towards me, stone feet thudding against the gleaming marble floor, he raised his shield and sword defensively. I peered around him at the slightly stunned faces of Mor and Rhysand.

"Either one of you like to test him out?"

Rhysand rose smoothly to his feet, I summoned a steel blade and tossed it to him.

The General lunged and knocked the blade away from Rhysand before it could reach him, it clattered to the floor nearby. A lucky shot, I feared. Rhysand used his power to summon the blade to his hand. I stepped back. Mor watched, wide eyed and just a little impressed.

Rhysand and my General clashed swords, Rhysand, impossibly swift but the General learned from his form and style and adjusted accordingly. I felt my power ebbing from me like grains of sand in the wind. I gritted my teeth, imagining the drain magnified across an entire army. I felt a tremor of fear that I might not possess enough power for an entire army.

It only took Rhysand a minute to disarm him. I gave the order to surrender and grimaced, disappointed. We were not warriors, in the Iron Court and it did not greatly surprise me that despite my best efforts to craft a perfect soldier, I had failed to create the mind of one. I turned to my General, "Gratias," I said and he brought his feet closer, crossing shield and sword across his chest. "Dormi," I added, nodding. The liquid metal eyes closed and the soldier became statue once again.

Mor whistled low, "You do need Cassian."

I gave her a dark look, I warred between whether I liked the Morrigan or not. Rhysand gave her a dark warning look.

"I'll give you truth, Morrigan. The Suriel sent me to find Cassian. I asked for a commander for the army, to lead them. It gave me his name." Morrigan looked at me, as though she knew I were withholding one more detail, "It also said a bunch of crap about love but I told it to take a hike."

They both grinned at that, and I gave them a half smile in return.

Rhysand nodded, "I think she'll work well with the Illyrian brute. This could work."

"Then we have an agreement?"

Rhysand sipped his whisky, lips pursed as he savored it with one hand splayed out on the table.

Mor and I watched him closely. You'd never have known from his appearance the raw power he held within, coiled like a spring. I rested my eyes on the sword, where he'd laid across the table, the sword I'd used against a creature who'd crawled out of the evil of Hybern.

"I have seen what creatures come from evil, firsthand what horrors come from that King and his court. I will do whatever to protect all life from what he seeks to create." My silver wing twitched, in silent emphasis _._ "This," I turned to the marble and gold soldier, "is the General. Take him back and train him extensively so that he can record your movements and strategy. They are not living but they learn and I will take his knowledge and duplicate it across the legion. When we are ready we can winnow the entire army wherever you choose. Though I do have a spot in mind."

"We?" Rhysand finally asked.

"Yes." I said slowly.

Rhysand shook his head, "I only _need_ to send Cassian to the Iron Court, briefly. Then summon your army when the need arises. _We_ is an entirely other bargain."

"No. No bargains." I snapped, the stone quaked slightly beneath out feet, my anger and fear rippling down uncontrolled.

He shook his head, "That is the currency of my Court, I'm afraid."

I frowned, studying the floor. I let down the cast iron mental shield I'd felt the daemati tapping against all evening. Let the wall drop and opened my mind to him. "Search until you find whatever you need to trust me." I closed my eyes and waited, the feeling of his dark talons raking through my mind like nails on a chalkboard. Several seconds elapsed and I felt him withdraw. I collapsed back into the chair and finished my drink, feeling like I'd just had a long string pulled from inside my skull.

Ripples of night pooled around him. His face unsure, he said, "I'll let you know in day. Be my guest until then." He took Mor by the arm and winnowed away, leaving me in the palace alone. Apparently, trusted but not trusted enough.

I rose and wandered to the first unlocked door, a guest bedroom more glamour ours and comfortable that anything in the Nine Isles. My curiosity began to outweigh my annoyance.

How strange that this beautiful secluded palace, high above the Hewn City, did not seem to be the High Lord's refuge. I wondered if he'd gone below into the Court below, and of what secrets lay within. I reached a tendril of power through the stone and recoiled with what I found. Something about the palace made me doubt that the beautiful Fae female and her High Lord had disappeared into the Court below my feet. The wind and stone did not speak it, but from the silence, rather, I felt a strange knowing.

I spent a full day in quiet comfort. I _clearly_ needed to upgrade my personal residence within Koche Mountain because it could not compare to this level of extravagant accommodation. Despite the luxurious dwelling, I soon grew bored and took soldier to the terrace to train under the night sky. Swirls of deep purple and near pink mixed in with the clear blinking star light. A celestial masterpiece. I found it difficult to sleep in this place, with such beauty drifting in through the open windows.

My eyes were fixed intently on the coiled stone General when I noticed a flicker far off in the distance. As my attention honed, the General turned and raised and sword and shield defensively at the approaching form. "Dormi." He lowered his weapons and fell back onto his heels, crashing into unconsciousness.

A figure flew towards us. The wind rippled around me and I turned my head, listening. More silence. _Even the wind won't obey me here._

A tall cold faced and bone meltingly beautiful Illyrian male landed on the marble before me. He eyed the General.

"Impressive."

I nodded in thanks, "Cassian?"

A ghost of a smile tugged on his lips. "No. I hope that doesn't disappoint you."

My eyes took in the dark shadows swirling around and trailing behind him. I noted the shadows, how they obeyed him, "Shadowsinger." I breathed, and bowed.

His rough scarred hand touched under my elbow, lifting me from the bow. "I'm Azriel, just Azriel, no need to bow." He paused, then added, "I need to bring you to the High Lord."

I nodded, eyeing him as I snapped my fingers to send the General back into the in-between.

"Do you need to pack?"

I shook my head, mouth dry. The handsome faerie made me nervous in a way I hadn't felt in decades. _I really need to get out more,_ I said to myself. I'd spent too much time cooped up in the Foundry.

"Follow me then." He said, and launched himself into the sky. I unfurled my wings from their tucked position, stretching the muscles and joints. Azriel waited, hovering overhead patiently. I flapped my wings to settle my feathers for flight, it always took a moment longer for my silver wing to unfurl properly. Nervous to fly in front of the Illyrian warrior, I decided a running start would be best. I ran forward and leapt up the same time I brought my wings down powerfully and felt my feet lift off the marble. Flight still intoxicated me and I quickly caught up with the Shadowsinger.

"You know it's been forever since I had someone to fly with." I shouted over the wind.

"Then you'll need practice. Stick close." Azriel shouted back, then dipped into a soaring twist. I howled with delight as I twisted after him. I was faster, lighter boned than the Illyrian and had no trouble keeping up with him. He tested me as we flew west. He would bank and dive and I would follow, trying to keep formation with him like I'd seen the birds at home do.

My silver wing began aching an hour and a half into our flight, and I was grateful to see the distant ocean glimmer on the horizon. Azriel seemed to read my strain and he suddenly swooped down, scooping me up. I tucked my wings in, fighting the panic at our close proximity, Azriel banked towards the sea.

"Welcome to Velaris." He whispered in my ear. I shuddered as the veil of glamour lifted and a golden city of light was revealed. I felt that _pulling_ fall away, the desire to go anywhere else. My heart thundered at this breathtaking city before us. Forgetting my apprehension, I clutched at his shoulders, straining my neck to look down at the city below.

"It's amazing." I breathed into the wind.

Azriel's chest rumbled in agreement, sending shivers across the places where our bodies touched, where he held me under the legs, where my wings brushed against him, now tucked tight to my body.

"I had to carry you in for the wards and magic to invite you in. Otherwise it would have directed you away."

I laughed, remembering the days I'd spent circling. We flew in silence for the remainder, I saw a mansion on a high cliff and assumed we were headed for it. He landed gracefully and set me on my feet. Immediately, the distance from him and lack of him caused an ache in my chest and a cold to spread bone deep.

"It's a perfect night for flying." I mused, trying to hide my complete devastation at being separated from this shadowed warrior. I gazed up at the sky swirling above us to keep my eyes from lingering on him.

Azriel nodded, tipping his head back to match, the shadows seemed to stretch ever so slightly toward me, curling in the corner of my eye. I swallowed a chuckle even as I sent my own gust of wind tumbling over him. As I guessed, it returned to me silent. Azriel made a noise in his throat. I turned to look at him, meeting his speculative gaze. He was about to say something when I felt the Morrigan approach. His gaze immediately snapped to her.

"Well that was fast."

I tore my eyes away from him, heart aching at the way he stared at her. I mentally shook myself. And turned to the glowing Mor, smile wide across her face.

"Welcome to the House of Wind"

"Finally, I get to see Rhysand's true secret lair. I think you've built up more than enough suspense, for it."

Mor laughed exchanging a shared look with Azriel as she held out her hands to both of us.

"Well, come on then." She said and she ushered us inside.

—


	2. House of Wind

**I noticed I've gotten a few follows and favorites, and I want to say a sincere thanks for the support. I'll be posting these chapters all before the release of ACOFAS and am curious to see where SJM goes with the AzrielxElainxLucian dynamic before I release part 2 of my ACOTAR FanFic series. I like my FanFic not to diverge** ** _too_** **much from canon.**

 **I would love to read your reviews. I've got this piece ¾ finished, and am mostly in the editing and revising stage. But I'd love to read your predictions and where you'd like to see this story go.**

A Court of Silver and Feathers | Part 1 - Ch 2 | An Azriel FanFic

Azriel arrived early the next morning to take me to meet Cassian. I followed him sleepily to the kitchens, hoping for something stronger than tea.

I stopped at a platter of fruit and pastries, he gestured for an orange and I handed it to him. I poured a mug of steaming black tea and sipped it while Azriel studied me.

"Disappointed it's not coffee?"

"Very." I said miserably. He shook his head in disapproval.

"Your people have traveled too much, developed too many expensive tastes."

I shrugged and gestured to the shadows curling around the hand that peeled an orange. "Who taught you?"

"No one."

"Hmmm." I mused. "A gift like that likely has a story."

Azriel shrugged, "I could say the same for you. A lady with the power of an heir but no throne."

I grimaced, eyeing him through the tea steam. His face was so perfect beneath the shadows. I saw so much anger and pain across his marble cut features, but I could see the strength that won out. "That is a story best told paired with a different type of drink." I said, raising my tea to him. And I found myself picturing it, confiding in him. I'd not confided in anything but stone and steel and wind for a long time. I watched his face and wondered I we had similar stories, he and I.

"Another time, then."

I nodded, gulping down the rest of the tea. "I'm sure dear Cassian is eager to get to work."

"Right this way."

I followed Azriel into the bright sunshine and courtyard used for training. Cassian sat in a corner, his wings bandaged. My spine prickled at the sight of his injured wings. I surveyed them carefully, silver wing twitching behind me. The sight brought back a flood of painful memories.

When we were a yard apart, Azriel stopped to lounge against a wall and gestured to me casually, "This is the fresh meat."

"We haven't had much of that around here since Feyre left." Cassian murmured. I'd seen the Cursebreaker only in my dream, seen how she'd returned to the Spring Court and winced for them.

"You must be Cassian, High Commander." I stepped forward and inclined my head.

"Lady Eloda of the Iron Court."

I nodded at his wings and flexed my own. "Recovery is a bitch, amiright?"

Cassian laughed loudly, tipping his head back. "That would be an understatement for sure." His hair was longer and tied back into a messy knot, deep shadows blossomed under his eyes, like he hadn't slept in weeks. But his eyes glinted in the sun, sharp and watchful.

I nodded and snapped my fingers to summon the General into the Courtyard, his stone feet landed with a thud. "Surgit." I commanded and the soldier's eyes blinked open, I felt the instantaneous drain on my power.

Cassian nodded, his full focus set upon the soldier. "Let's see what he can do. Azriel?"

Azriel straightened and walked confidently into the space, dressed in his fighting leathers.

"Educatio." I commanded, and the soldier took a defensive stance, his eyes locking on the Shadowsinger. "All his commands are in the original tongue." I whispered to Cassian as an aside, coming to lean against the wall next to him. My eyes glued as Azriel lunged and spared with the stone soldier. The Shadowsinger was deadly and graceful, less obviously muscled than Cassian but stronger than he appeared and far more skilled than any warrior I'd ever seen in training. His hazel eyes focused on the soldier, quick and assessing, shadows licked forward as his attention honed on his opponent. I stole a glance at Cassian who had started shouting out directions to Azriel, techniques and exercises he wanted demonstrated for the General to learn.

I stopped focusing on the drain of my powers as they sparred and engrossed myself in the dance between the two, advance and retreat, the clash and recoil of steel. Sweat poured off the shadowed warrior, an hour elapsed and Cassian finally called a break. I was exhausted for him. Azriel left the training pitch for water.

"I wish I'd had these soldiers in the last war." Cassian said quietly.

I nodded watching the soldier as he continued through the routines, tireless as he awaited his instructors return.

"They wouldn't be much use without your training though."

Cassian chuckled, "And that is why you're next."

I turned to him, shocked.

"Did you think you could roll with us and not do any training?"

I blinked, "I figured it would be a waste of time."

Azriel returned with a deerskin of water handing it off to his friend. "You have the ability to control metal and stone. That's an advantage on a battlefield."

I glanced at him, my palms breaking out in a sweat. "Then, I guess I'm next." I turned to the General and gave him the command to rest.

Cassian grinned wickedly, Azriel gestured towards the pitch and I summoned a blade, turning to face the deadly Shadowsinger.

He started slow, instructing me patiently. I followed him, trying to mimic his polished movements, our blades clashing over and over.

After a few minutes he straightened and paused. "You have had some training."

"A little, I had a mentor a few decades ago. But our methods don't really compare to the Illyrians."

"You have a good foundation. We'll make you an honorary Illyrian yet."

My face reddened with pleasure and exertion.

"I wanna see those powers in action." Cassian called from the sidelines.

Azriel looked back at the Commander and nodded, stepping back from me.

I let go of the steel blade and floated it out in front of me.

Azriel's eyes narrowed onto the steel blade. I mimicked the movements I'd just practiced, using my mind instead of my physical body. The movements of the sword are clunky and disjointed.

Azriel held a hand up for me to pause, stepping back to study me. He took a few more steps back. "Instead of projecting the sword outside of yourself maybe envision yourself standing before me as though you are wielding it. Spar with me, instead of from a distance through the sword. Make sense?"

I nodded and mentally parried, the clashing of our swords smoother than before. I quickened the movements and Azriel struggled to keep up. He laughed and staggered back, I realized I'd disarmed him. Cassian barked a laugh, "I haven't seen that happen in a few centuries."

I spun the sword again and it dropped, my mental grip failing. I bent over under a sudden wave of nauseous exhaustion. My vision tunneled.

One moment I was falling to my knees, the next I was staring up at the bright sky above. "What happened?"

"You fainted." Azriel said, his voice tight and low.

I made to sit up but his strong gentle hand held me back. Cassian walked gingerly towards us. Embarrassed, I said "That's quite some training program."

Cassian and Azriel exchange tight glances.

I heard an unfamiliar female voice from a few yards away. "I thought there was something off about that girl." A breeze passed over her and I shuddered at the pure power that rippled from her.

I heard Mor rebuke her in a whisper, "Amren, you can't just say that to people."

Amren shrugged, "She doesn't smell right. Not exactly Cauldron made but similar."

Mor groaned.

I pinched my lips together and Azriel gently slid a folded towel under my head and shoulders, propping up enough to see Mor and Amren. "Forged not made." I whispered.

Amren nodded to herself, eyes calculating, "A rumor I haven't heard for centuries of an ancient being who forged the Cauldron."

"Old lore." Mor added.

"I'd heard whispers of a power even more ancient than the Cauldron." Azriel mused.

"Am I the only one that's never heard of this before?" Cassian said irritably.

I swallowed a smile, feeling kinship blooming for the commander.

A warmth that turned bitter, faded as I contemplated the eyes of my new companions on me and the answer they all waited for. "I've long had theories about where this power comes from but I don't have any proof. All I know is that my mother disappeared for years before returning and then suddenly conceiving after years of infertility. I suspect she found someone with the power enough to grant that fertility. I believe it came at a great cost, from a bargain. Mother was very weak after she returned and when I came into my full powers at sixteen . . . she died the same night." My eyes shuttered and I felt like I'd been training for decades rather than hours. I swayed again, Azriel's steadying hand was again at my back. I gave him a half smile. "I think I'll go rest for a bit." Then turning to Cassian and Azriel in turn, added, "Thank you. Truly."

I woke to the sound of angry conversation below me. Judging by the light through the window, I'd slept through till next morning. I bathed and dressed and crept downstairs.

The group sat around the dining table. My eyes went to Azriel and my heart dropped to see him in close conversation with Mor. She said something and he stretched his hand across the table to hers, fingers hovering a hair's breadth away. She pulled her hand away and rested it back in her lap. My eyes skittered away from them and I found myself looking at the brunette Fae from my dream. I stopped in the doorway, mouth popping open.

Azriel's attention caught on my reaction and Mor turned to look at me. I shuffled forward to the table, eyes locked on the Fae female I'd seen thrust into the Cauldron, the one who emerged full of fire.

The Fae and Cassian were still locked in an argument.

"I can smell that ointment from the other side of the house."

"It's medicinal.  
"It's foul."

Then suddenly Nesta stiffened and turned to me, finally feeling my stare boring through her. "Can I help you?" She said coldly.

"I saw. . ." I started, then shook my head clearing the dream. Azriel's shadows were snaking towards me out of the corner of my eye. No doubt now reporting to him that I frequently had nightmares. _Great, now I'm the crazy one,_ I thought. _Better own it,_ I decided. "I saw you, in a dream, with the Cauldron.

Her eyes went wide and furious. I took a step back, looking to Cassian for help.

"She brought an army, she wants to help." Cassian said softly.

She paused a moment, staring at him. Then turned back to me and snapped, "Well, seeing as I am here in the flesh, rather than a portrait, I'd appreciate if you quit staring."

I nodded and slid into a seat next to Mor, desperately wishing for coffee. "Forge me, I miss coffee so much I can almost smell it."

Mor laughed and slid a steaming pot towards me. I gazed at her lovingly. "Don't toy with me, Mor. Is this?"

"Coffee? Yes. I found some in the city."

I poured the steaming black coffee into a mug and leaned over to inhale it. I moaned into it, "You are a goddess."

"It's nothing, I just charged it to the _High Lord._ He's used to my spending anyway." She waved it off, though she was slightly pink cheeked.

My eyes snapped up at the mention of debt to the High Lord. I reached up and plucked a platinum hair from my head, I ran it between my forefinger and thumb. I felt the pull of power, and set a strand of pure spun gold on the table in front of her. "As a down payment." I said, stirring cream and sugar into my mug.

I looked up in after several moment to the silence around me. All four pairs of eyes were watching me, ranging between awe and horror.

"You can spin your hair into gold?" Cassian asked.

My cheeks heated, "Is that weird?"

Cassian tossed his head back and laughed. Nesta shook her head disgustedly and looked out the window, away from me. Azriel's eyes shadowed completely, his face unreadable.

Mor shook her head, eyes tight but her voice was soft. "Not weird, just new."

I lowered my gaze back to my coffee. Cassian and Azriel began discussing the day's sparring with the General.

Nesta got up to leave, mumbling something about overwhelming Fae strangeness.

Once out of earshot, I turned to Mor. "Where is the other girl. The other Fae female?" I wanted to add, _is she okay?_

Azriel looked sharply at me. Mor's eyes tightened again. "Elain did not handle the transition from human to Fae well. She was engaged and that has ended."

Azriel's face contract slightly, the shadows jolting a fraction.

My own eyes swam as I thought back to a time when my own body did not seem familiar anymore. I nodded sympathetically. "But she is here?"

Mor nodded, her lips pressed together. "Nesta has asked us to give her space."

I frowned, "Is that really best, though?"

Azriel looked at me sharply, "She needs time."

I shrugged and nodded, turning to Cassian who starred into the distant wall, glazed. I sipped my coffee awkwardly, thinking on the many social landmines in this smaller Court.

I felt the stone shudder outside the house, a presence of power floating in through the house. The High Lord entered a few minutes later, looking more exhausted than Cassian.

He sat, nodding to me once.

Cassian and Azriel launched into a report about the army. I stayed quiet.

"Az, I need you to go back to the human territories, if you're ready. I need you to try again to get into one of those courts."

Azriel nodded seriously, the shadows already starting to swallow him, immediately assuming the role of Spymaster. He stood and Rhysand nodded to him in dismissal, the Spymaster turned and stalked out of the room without a backward glance. I felt a shiver of cold in his absence.

Rhysand turned to Cassian, "How's the recovery?"

"Slow." Cassian said truthfully.

Rhysand turned to me then, his eyes lingering on my silver wing. "Know anything to help him?"

I nodded, wary. "I do have some ideas, yes."

Cassian looked grave, but Rhysand nodded emphatically. "As long as they are safe, we should try everything at our disposal, his recovery needs to be a top priority."

I nodded, "I have some healing powers. I'll need quite a bit of silver though."

Rhysand nodded, "You can have as much as you need. Now there is something else. I need you to know that you are now bound to Velaris. You must protect the secret with your life, should anyone find out about this city it could mean the lives of thousands."

I nodded seriously, "I'll bury it away behind the deepest of my iron shields, and guard the secret with my life."

Rhysand nodded, "You do have some impressive shielding, I have half a mind to have her teach Feyre." He said to Cassian.

"Feyre?" I asked confused. "You two are still on speaking terms?"

Cassian grinned again, far too amused with my ignorance.

"Well yes, she is High Lady of the Night Court."


	3. Trip to Madja's

Thanks for all the follows and favorites! Please review and let me know what you think about the story progression.

A Court of Silver and Feathers | Part 3 | An Azriel x OC story

Rhysand flew Feyre into the House of Wind several weeks later.

I knew from Rhysand's expression that he carried the High Lady in his arms. His face radiated brightly against the blue afternoon sky.

They landed and he lowered her to the ground with steady hands, his eyes glazed as he watched her. Cassian and Azriel landed next, Azriel carried a red-haired Fae male with a gash across a golden eye. He grimaced, stepping away from the Shadowsinger, golden eye glinting in the sun. I watched the three males and her mate follow the Cursebreaker protectively. Even at this distance, I could feel the loyalty each of them felt for her.

I felt a jealous flame spread all the way down to my toes. For a moment I burned with it, as I watched them smile and joke in the courtyard below, the easy way she commanded the loyalty of these three Illyrian warriors and the new foxlike Fae.

Then, High Lady's face tilted up to look at the House of Wind and I saw her fully for the first time. Undeniably Archeron features more steel than Elain and butter than Nesta. Her eyes drifted up to my window and I worried she would see me watching. I felt the jealous flame ebbing, as I took in her eyes and the fire and flint within. She wasn't just the High Lady, she was the Cursebreaker. They called her Cauldron Blessed in the Spring Court, but that wasn't accurate. The Cauldron hadn't doled out this Fae's blessings, she'd fought for them with blood and bone. My jealousy faded as I watched her embrace Mor and enter the house.

I waited, unsure if I should go down. She'd certainly want to see her sisters first. So I sat on my window ledge and listened to the muffled sounds in the house. Even a full floor above Rhysand and Feyre's mating bond was palatable. An image of Azriel gazing at me with that glazed expression Rhysand bore floated into my mind and I pushed it away along with that crushing ache in my chest. I needed some air.

I scribbled a note, in case anyone came looking.

 _Giving the Night Court some privacy, flying down to Velaris. Be back for dinner._

I opened the window and glided out, Velaris was delicious in the afternoon light.

I decided to fly down and visit Madja.

I'd spent most my time with Madja, Azriel had been gone doing secret Spymaster missions for the High Lord, Cassian trained my General endlessly, and Mor had to make a lot of trips to the Court of Nightmares, a place I didn't have much appetite to return.

Madja had appeared one afternoon. I'd stood against a doorway and watched her change the bandages on Cassian's shredded wings. He hissed as she pulled away a particularly difficult wound that was seeping ominously. She tisked and applied a yellowish balm while Cassian glared at me.

Madja turned to asses me then, nodding to my own silver wing. "It is not a prosthetic," she noted.

I shook my head and flexed my wing forward and back. Cassian watched silently, no one in the Night Court had yet to ask about my strange wing.

Madja approached, her hand outstretched. She hovered just before the wing and paused, for permission. I nodded and felt her wrinkled but strong, confident touch against the silver wing. She gently prodded the base of the wing, where it grew into my back. Where I knew veins of silver splayed out in scarred fissures.

"A graft, like a spliced branch of a tree." She mused.

Cassian looked at me and I smiled at his bewildered expression.

"Our Court is known for the ability to control metals." I floated a silver utensil towards myself from the nearby kitchen. It revolved slowly between Cassian and myself. Cassian watched it with a faraway expression, hunched over on the kitchen stool, his marred wings draping behind him. A fallen warrior.

Madja stood behind me, a hand on each wing and pressed along the outer wing bone of each, in turn, comparing and assessing. She made a noise in her throat that prompted me to continue my story.

"Silver is known for its healing properties." I pulled on the utensil with my powers, watching it disintegrate into a fine powder. "I had an _accident_." I said tersely, "and was losing a lot of blood. I heard the silver calling to me, so I called back, drew it into myself." I pulled a small pocket knife out and unfolded it, the silver particles swirling in figure eight before me. Cassian's eyes went wide and I drew the knife across my forearm. Just a small cut, an inch long. Madja came around, to watch. I pulled on the silver particles, guiding them over and into the wound. I began to knit and after a few moments, a thin silver scar appeared where the cut once was. I could see the possibilities swirling in Madja's eyes.

I shrugged, "It's not _really_ necessary for minor cuts. But it has proved useful."

"To put it mildly," Cassian said. I gave him a half smile. "So you did that, but with your wing and it grew back?" He asked, his eyes roving over the regrown wing.

"Yes and no, I think. I remember drawing the silver into myself for a long time. I was losing a lot of blood, I was half conscious. I was delirious, I think something in my body took over. I dreamed my wing was re-growing and woke and it had."

Madja was nodding and Cassian stared at me like I'd also grown a second head.

"Do you have to use your power to control it? Or is it a part of you?"

I nodded, knowing what she was asking. "It is not silver. And it is not flesh and bone. It is both. I don't use any of my powers to move it, just like I don't use my power to move an arm or leg."

Madja grinned broadly. "Marvelous." She said, fingering a silver feather. "As light as a natural feather as polished metal." I blushed, at the compliment. I mumbled a goodbye and bowed out of the room as Madja returned to bandaging the Commander's wounds.

The next day, when she returned to work on Cassian, she instead turned to me.

"Would you want to attempt something similar with these stubborn areas?" She gestured to the angry and raw looking rents across the thin membrane and muscle covering the arm of the wing. She held out a leather bag of fine silver powder.

I nodded, eager to try my technique on Cassian. I stepped toward him with an outstretched hand and he leaned away. He looked at Madja who returned a hard stare.

"There is not much more I can do to speed your healing, young Warrior." She crooned shaking her head, sitting on a stool to punctuate her determination.

He begrudgingly allowed us to work on him and within a week his wings were fully healed. Madja watched with rapt attention as I guided tendrils of finely ground silver over the wounds and tears in Cassian's wings. He winced and gripping the edges of the stool he sat on.

"How badly does it hurt?" Madja asked.

Cassian shook his head, "Sensitive." He rasped through his gritted teeth. I swallowed a smile, my own wings twitching. Cassian glared menacingly at me, his eyes threatening. _Keep your mouth shut,_ they seemed to say _._

Madja, ignoring our exchanged, scribbled furious notes into a leather notebook.

"I wonder if you'd be willing to attempt a different method tomorrow?"

I shrugged and nodded. Cassian turned over his shoulder, stone-faced but didn't dare ask.

"Then that's all for today, then." Madja signaled. Cassian rose and nodded his thanks to Madja, avoiding my eyes. I laughed internally, working to keep my face straight.

"Same time tomorrow," Madja said and patted him on the rear as he walked away.

He instantly stood ramrod straight, freezing for a moment. He recovered and nearly ran out of the room.

Madja turned to me, her ancient Fae eyes sparkling and wicked. "I don't usually make a habit of torturing my patients, but that one definitely deserves it." We doubled over with laughter.

Madja and I worked together every day after, experimenting with dressings and eventually developed a healing solution of distilled water and ground silver that worked nearly as quickly as silver guided by my own powers.

I landed outside of Madja's workshop, I knocked lightly and let myself in.

"What are you doing here? You've been here every day for nearly two weeks. Go have some fun, I hear the Cursebreaker is back."

I shrugged, "I'm giving the Night Court some space, Feyre returned with Rhysand. I'm letting them have some privacy. Besides, I _like_ it here. I feel useful here." I gestured to the piles of emergency healing kits we'd assembled in case of war.

"You are useful everywhere." Her wise blue eyes drilled into mine. "You are young and in a beautiful city, and you should explore."

"I have explored."

"Going to the market for supplies is not the same."

I laughed and nodded, "Fair enough. Does this mean you are kicking me out then?"

"Yes. Get." She said, spinning me around and shoving me towards the door. "Who knows you might even fall in love."

I froze and turned to her but she had already returned to her work, steadily ignoring me.

"An old female doesn't count." She teased, sensing the retort while it was still on my lips.

I shook my head and headed through the door.

 _She sounds like the Suriel,_ I thought as I wandered down the street, smells of lunch and perfume and flowers dancing around me on the wind.

Madja was a delightful teacher, kind and wise. But she was right, I did use her to hide from the Night Court. They'd let me into their Inner Circle, yet there I stayed on the fringes. _Where I'd always been,_ I thought.

I turned down a side street and ran smack into a tall male chest. I looked up and saw Azriel stood behind him, he held up the note I'd written, his eyebrow arching up.

"We were looking for you," Azriel said. I felt a flutter in my stomach and blinked it away. He cocked his head to the side, assessing me.

I bit my lip. "I was at Madja's."

He looked back over his shoulder at the direction of the House of Wind. "Ready to go meet the High Lady?"

"Isn't this a Night Court reunion?"

"Yes. And you are an honorary Night Court guest, so, come on." He jerked his head, "Besides Cassian wants to show off with the General." I smiled and his hazel eyes glinted wolfishly. He extended a scarred hand and I took it, savoring its warmth. I followed him to the open courtyard at the end of the street, watching his strong muscled back and wings, his impeccable posture. He turned to face me, we were alone in the courtyard. He squeezed my hand and released it, saying, "Don't be nervous, Feyre will love you."

I gave him a half smile, thinking of how Cassian, Azriel, and the other male had looked at her shrugged. "Sure."

He looked for a moment that he might say something, try to convince me further, but he just nodded and launched into the late afternoon sky.

I watched him soar far above, his powerful back muscles pumping his wing beats. I unfurled my wings and flew after him.

I landed and followed Azriel into the dining room where the rest of the Night Court waited.

Azriel nodded at Rhysand and settled into a chair.

Rhysand grinned like a cat, "Feyre, darling, meet Eloda."

I nodded to the Cursebreaker and settled into the only remaining chair. I felt her gaze as sharp as knives across my skin.

"Cassian tells me your soldier is impressive."

I nodded again, replies flitted through my head, all of them felt idiotic. My eyes darted nervously around the room, Nesta was seated at the table along with Mor and Amren and the red-haired male. All of their eyes were calculating, I felt a reassuring tendril of shadow curling towards me from Azriel. I cleared my throat, "Cassian is an excellent commander."

She nodded, her eyes fixed on mine, "He is. We're going to need him. We are going to need everyone."

"Whatever I can do, I want to help."

"Cassian tells me that you've developed something similar to the siphons?"

I shook my head, "It's just something High Fae in the Iron Court has been using for centuries."

The red-haired Fae frowned, "What is she talking about, Feyre?"

Feyre's eyes snapped to the male, I swore I saw just the barest edge of mistrust there, "I'm sorry Eloda, this, is Lucian, Emissary of the Spring Court." She stumbled just slightly over the name of her former Court.

I watched Lucian, his golden eye fixed on mine. I summoned the iron stores from the in-between and caught them mid-air in my hand. I held them out to Feyre, Lucian watched suspiciously and I saw Rhys twitch in my periphery. "They are perfectly safe," I said, tipping them into her outstretched hands. "Unfortunately, it crossed my mind too and I haven't figured out a way for someone without metalworking powers to use them."

She nodded, holding each iron cuff in a hand, weighing them. She held them and I could see her eyes glaze slightly. I leaned forward, Rhysand snapped the cuffs away from her.

"Did you feel something?"

Feyre was shaking her head, "Like a buzzing."

I watched her recover, my brows knitting together. Azriel had come to stand protectively behind her. Rhysand was turning the cuffs over in his hands. He held one up to me.

"Did you make these yourself?"

"Yes. Do you feel anything from them, Rhysand?"

He shook his head. The Night Court exchanged glances.

"Will someone please explain what in the Cauldron's name you are all talking about?!" Nesta snapped. Cassian's eyebrows shot up at the outburst.

I swallowed a grin, "High Fae in the Iron Court uses these to store their power-up for later use. You can spend part of your day without access to your power and store it away for later use instead. Then you can call upon it later, so long as the Iron is touching skin."

Feyre was nodding as I talked, reaching back to Rhysand to take the wrist jewelry back. He released them back to her and she carefully fingered the hammered surface of the dark metal, two wide strips of pounded metal curved to slide around each wrist she slid them across the table to Nesta.

"So you just wear these and save you powers for later?" Nesta asked, turning the jewelry over. Each set of eyes was fixed on her, wondering if the Cauldron made Fae would feel some connection to the iron that birthed her.

"Kind of, you feel a pulling when they are empty, and you just have to lean into it a little, once they touch your skin. And when they are full, you feel a pressure, and it's similar, you just have to reach out to start drawing on that power."

"Useful," was all she said as she slid them back to me.

"You didn't feel that did you?"

She looked away, "No."

Amren's delicate fingers snaked out and grabbed the irons. She slid them on quickly, her silver eyes swirled then seemed to glow brighter. She tipped her head back and breathed in, "Delicious."

I held my hand out to her to return the stores to me. She narrowed her eyes for just a flash. Rhysand cleared his throat and she returned them back with a sigh.

"Thank you," I said, snapping them back into the in-between. Amren watched me predatorily, a mental note to keep an eye on the silver-eyed Fae.

"Cassian has told me that powering the army will likely drain your powers quickly."

I grimaced, my eyes flitted to Azriel, embarrassed. "I've been creating stores, funneling power into them in my sleep."

"Is that safe?" Mor asked.

I hesitated, "I am careful."

"Create as many as you need. Maybe you should even return home for a time."

I turned to Rhysand, "Are you ready for the Army, then?"

He nodded slowly, "We should make preparations to winnow them in, but I was thinking that you would be stronger in your court. You'll need all the power set aside that you can."

"And Eloda will need to transfer Cassian's training across the army," Azriel said.

I nodded, "I'll go back tomorrow and begin working." My stomach felt like a cold ball of ice.

Cassian, his voice warm and friendly said, "You'll be back in no time. Don't worry, you're an honorary Night Courtier for life."

Feyre, oddly quiet, finally spoke. "We appreciate the alliance."

I dipped my head, "That goes both ways." I gave her a grim smile.

I was packing my things when I sensed Azriel in the doorway. I turned to him, shadows snaking up his neck and swirling around his ears, his eyes surprisingly clear.

"Have you heard anything from the Iron Court lately?"

I frowned at the floor, "Actually, no. Wait, have you?"

He shifted, "Not from your court, but there have been some whispers."

"What are they saying?"

"It's conflicting. But I think your brother has been busy while you've been away."  
"My brother is never busy. If there is scheming it is his mother behind it." I turned and snapped my things into the in-between. "Thank you for telling me."

He nodded once, "Let me know if you need anything."

"Can I give you some advice in return?"

"Sure."

I nodded to the scars on his hands and pulled a small glass container from a drawer. "Use this before bed on your hands. I see you flexing them after you spar or just at the end of the day." I gestured to my own wing, the scars concealed beneath my tunic. "The scar tissue isn't as elastic, it needs a bit of help."

He took the jar. "Thanks, I didn't realize you noticed."

I nodded, he made to turn away and I reached out a hand impulsively for his shoulder. He turned and I pulled my hand back watching the shadows snake up and over his angular jawline towards the bottom lip. I stepped towards him.

"You deserve someone who sees you, even when you don't want to be seen. You are extraordinary, Shadowsinger." I said and reached up on my tiptoes to kiss the spot where shadow met lip.

I pulled back, his eyes were wide. He stepped out of my reach, my heart plummeted.

He shook his head. "I—"

"I know, I see that too. I just wanted you to know there was someone out there that notices you as much as you notice, _them_." I thought of Mor and Elain, both too beautiful for words and how Azriel always seemed pulled by a magnet whenever either walked into the room with him.

Azriel's eyes were shadowed now. I smiled.

"See you soon," I said, and left him in my bedroom.


	4. Racina

My feet sunk into the damp sand of Horseshoe Beach. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled in the cool sea breeze. A steel raven looked down at me from a nearby tree, metal eye glinting. The bird gave a tinny cry and my eyes snapped up. Black smoke curled in the distance. Above the nearby village of Brightsmith. I winnowed again.

Ash. The once bustling sea town had been reduced to ash and rubble. I frantically searched the burned-out buildings. No survivors. But, _no bodies_ either.

Maybe the alarms sounded early, the villagers evacuated. Would my brother have thought to direct them to the caverns under the mountain? Or would he have barricaded himself in the castle, with the villagers as fodder?

I summoned twin blades from the in-between and unfurled my wings, launching myself upward.

Movement caught my eye on the road ahead, a line of wagons pulled by lesser Fae, laden with weapons. They trudged towards the castle. I gritted my jaw and flew higher into the cloud cover. I pushed myself higher and faster, anger coursing through me as I streamed towards the castle.

The castle grew on the horizon, abruptly, I felt the crackle of magic as I encountered a bubble-like shield around it. I darted to the side and soared up again. I reached out tendrils of power, feeling a surge of strength in response. I flapped my wings upward and then dropped into a dive, blade first, through the center of the shield. I directed my magic through the swords, laughing as I felt the shield splinter around me.

I landed in the middle of the royal courtyard, growling as Hybern soldiers poured out of a nearby doorway. I flung my swords, propelling them farther than gravity would allow. They spun and sliced in the ways Cassian had taught me. Except here, in this land, I felt endless strength welling up from the stone under my feet. Fueled with anger, I cut down the Hybern soldiers one after the other.

A cackling laugh reached me, as I recalled my swords and drew great breaths. The cobblestone paths were stained with Hybern blood which gave me great satisfaction. I turned with a smile, to face my step-mother.

"Always a bloodthirsty mongrel." Racina spat. Tall and willowy with deep chestnut hair pulled back behind two elongated high fae ears. Her usually pretty face contorted in a snarl.

"Where is my brother?" I asked, leveling a sword at her.

"The _High Lord's_ whereabouts are none of your concern, O _utcast."_

She raised a palm in return, a green crackling fire igniting in her palm.

 _That's a new trick_ , I thought to myself. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her new-found powers. Powers that stank of Hybern magic. "Then he isn't here. Good." I said and sent my two blades careening towards her.

Racina spun in the air, dodging my blades and sent a green fire ball hurtling towards me. I raised a clumsy wall of stone between us, feeling the fire crackling around me, singing the edges of my cloak and silver wing.

"You have no idea what you've wandered into, Girl." Racina said.

I dismissed the wall, the stones falling into a heap at my feet and saw both blades imbedded into a statue at the end of the courtyard. I recalled my blades and swept through the courtyard. I already knew Racina was gone.

I sent tendrils of power out, seeking the wind and the stone. _Where is he?_ I asked. The scent of salt and pounding of waves echoed in response. I stretched further. _Which way?_ I pleaded to the stone. I felt a magnetic pull Westward, toward the shipyards. _The fleet_ , I thought, eyes snapping open.

I unfurled my wings again and leapt skyward. Soldiers along the road directed lesser Fae to unload carts of weapons onto larger horse cart. A soldier shoved a male roughly, barking an angry rebuke. I sent a rock pillar from the earth into his gut. He doubled over in pain.

The Fae male looked skyward and catching sight of me, waved his arms. I took a second look at the male and recognized Lucas, groundskeeper for the castle.

I circled and landed roughly, sending dust up in a cloud. The soldier stumbled roughly to his feet, sword out. His blade wrenched from his grasp and raised instead to his throat. Hovering in mid-air. I called a chain from the nearby cart and bound his hands and feet. Leaving the soldier immobile, and cursing, I turned to Lucas.

"My lady," Lucas said in greeting and swept into a bow. I jerked him up by an elbow.

"What happened?"

"About ten days ago the soldiers from Hybern made landfall in Brightsmith. The guard fought and were defeated. The High Lord's mother begged him to bow to Hybern. After they were defeated at Brightsmith the High Lord agreed to supply them with weapons."

"Then they went West?"

"Aye, to Caminus, M'Lady."

I nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I should never have left."

Lucas smiled, "You always come home, Eloda. Just like your mother."

A stab of pain ripped through me. I swallowed and dismissed my blade, unfurling my wings with a snap. "I'll send help. Spread word of my return."


	5. Ironport

Charred sections of mast and hull floated on the Copper Bay, far in the distance. Cold rage surged in my chest with every wingbeat. Years, _decades,_ spent hiding those vessels during Amarantha's rule, wasted. Just when we could start traveling and trading again.

I summoned a steel raven mid-flight and whispered a message I hoped would reach Azriel. I watched it fly towards the Night Court for a moment, unsure it could breach Velaris' magical shield.

I landed hard, boots sinking deep in the mud, and summoned the General immediately.

Hybern soldiers rushed at me, armed with strange chains and glowing green orbs that reminded me of syphons. The General smashed his way through them one by one. I took the left flank, dodging ash arrows and winnowing around slashing swords.

An ugly brutish soldier snarled at me, lashing a chain at my ankle. I pushed against chain and dodged around him. The biting snap of metal on flesh snaked around my ankle and I froze. Then cried out as my foot was wiped out from underneath me.

" _Veni huc_!" I croaked. The General's stone feet came crashing towards us. The General flung the soldier across the street in one motion.

I pried at the chain around my ankle, its touch seared my fingertips. The General bent down with clumsy stone fingers and ripped if free. The leather of my boot tore free with it. Red welts grew on my skin where the metal made contact.

"Perdere." I commanded icily to the General. _Destroy._ I launched into the sky and pulled every metal object in the square towards myself. Heaved up on every stone.

The General battled the few remaining soldiers and I flew towards that pulsing place I sensed my brother.

The _High Lord_. I flew, wrapped in a cloud of stone and metal fragments. A hurtling shield.

Racina did not stand beside him as I expected. No, the High Lord stood alone. My brother who shared so much of my Father's face. All but the eyes. _His_ mother's eyes stared back at me.

Hybern soldiers flanked him. Protectors or captors, I wasn't sure. Better to flatten them all either way. I smirked, splitling my shield into equal parts and hurling them towards the Guards at lightening speed.

Eridus, my brother the High Lord, flinched as blood splattered his cheek. "Eloda," he said by way of greeting, sounding bored.

"Little brother." I said, bowing to him mockingly. "Care to explain?" I took a cloth from my pocket and wiped my hands carefully.

Eridus thought a moment, then stood and turned away. "No."

I growled and followed, reaching out a hand to spin him around. He lost his balance and fell back a step.

Surprised, I too stepped back. "Eridus?"

He turned and smiled sardonically. "You always were self-absorbed."

I frowned. When I didn't answer, he rolled his eyes and held out a forearm. Three puncture marks oozed black blood from his arm.

I paled.

"Seems your _friend,"_ the word like acid on his tongue, "wasn't so dead after all."


	6. Eridus

My mind whirled and an image clicked into view; Racina wielding green flames. The lesser fae, with no powers. Racina had not been _Racina_ at all.

Who else had magic like that? Or illusions that powerful?

Except, " _The Wendigo_." My voice rattled as this as paper.

The terrible, terrible creature that had lived within Koche mountain for an age. And had imprisoned me years ago.

"Finally, she catches up." Eridus said.

"I tore him apart." I stammered.

"Guess not." Eridus kept his back to me.

"When?"

Eridus shrugged, "Little while after you left." The waves lapping on the dock. We stood at the edge of the bay. The horizon strange and empty without a fleet of merchant ships.

"How much of your power is left?"

Eridus barked a laugh which echoed strangely across the bay. Even if he had his full power, Eridus preferred to watch from the shadows while others did the dirty work.

"And. . ." I swallowed thickly, "your mother?"

Eridus shook his head. I didn't speak, knew too well how little words did to assuage that loss.

I cursed, another realization dawning. "The army."

He chuckled quietly, "We haven't had an army in an age, Eloda."

I shook my head. "No, not fae. A _stone_ army." I gestured to the General, returned to statue for the moment.

Eridus turned and surveyed the solid tall form of the stone soldier, the curious rounded ears and wingless back. "It certainly lacks some imagination, of form" he added an eyeroll, "but it might do. How many?"

"None if the Wendigo steals them." I said, snapping the General back into the in-between.

"You better get to it then."

"I'm not going alone this time. You're coming too. This is your court. It fell on your watch. Time to help take it back, little brother."

His eyes turned wide and stubborn.

"Eloda." He said warningly. But I'd already winnowed over and grabbed his arm.

We stood at the foot of Koche mountain, bare and slate grey. Ancient and powerful.

Winnowing greyed his skin and I questioned my decision for a moment. "How long since you were bitten?" I asked, catching a vial of silver out of this air.

"Two days."

I shook my head and wondered why the High Lord couldn't heal himself. I sent the grains of silver into the puncture marks and he winced. "Two days is enough time for it to drain some of your power. Some but not all."

He surveyed the arm again, the corners of his mouth turned down. "A slight improvement." Silver flowed up the veins in his arms.

"Best way to get your power back is to go kill the Wendigo."

"Good, now go do that."

"Kill it _together._ " I lunged for his arm again. But he winnowed away.

"If I go in there, my fate is sealed. I'm not coming back out." He snarled.

"Our power comes from deep in this mountain. I _know_ this, have seen what power resides in this mountain. Our blood sings with it here. Dig deeper, _High Lord_."

"No."

"Father would be ashamed." I spat.

"Maybe. But then he is already dead too, isn't he? Dead like our mothers. Dead like half of this godforsaken court that you _abandoned._ So why don't you save the high and mighty act for someone who actually buys that shit."

I summoned a blade from the in-between and had it at his throat in an instant. Eridus melted the edges of the blade away like animal fat.

Shocked, I stepped back and dropped the hilt. It landed with a thunk.

His shocked gaze fixed on the melted metal and hilt devoid of blade on the ground.

"Come with me." I whispered again.

"A High Lord doesn't need to go hunting." He said, and winnowed away.

I summoned another steel raven. "If I don't return, take the surviving fae to the Night Court." I whispered to it, "Ask for refuge, it will be given." The raven flew directly Northeast, toward where Lucas must be.

Through the fabric of space, the winnowing place, I did not feel the caress of magic. And knew, my wards and shields had been breached. I felt an uneasy, a deep foreboding I had overcome a long, long time ago. I stepped into the darkness and my footsteps echoed hollowly on the walls. I didn't need light, I could feel the mountain through my feet and knew the passage way by memory.

I chewed my lip, desperately hoping for Rhysand and his Night Court to come crashing down beside me at any moment. My earlier bravado with Eridus dissipated the further into the mountain I ventured.

Images of an awful segmented insect-like torso, the gleam of a bony exoskeleton, disfigured mouth and three triangularly positioned fangs, dripping black venom danced in my mind.

If Azriel arrived, we could surely destroy the Wendigo for good. A creature born of darkness, unimaginably cunning and wicked would still be no match for the Shadowsinger and his syphons. Let alone Amren, the terrifying otherworldy creature, herself.

Aligned with the rest of the Night Court the Wendigo would easily be crushed.

However, it likely would be up to me. And my powers alone. I shivered, and exhaled a slow breath. I sent tendrils of my power down, down into the heart of the mountain. Felt the flicker of ember in the forge, the fire that burned eternally and pulled in into myself.

I stepped into the great open cavern, faint light from the eternal hearth. Déjà vu swirled around me like a mist.

No, not déjà vu. But an actual mist.

 _The Wendigo._


End file.
